


Master and Apprentice

by triste



Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-21
Updated: 2012-11-21
Packaged: 2017-11-19 05:17:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/569528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/triste/pseuds/triste
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You seem to be in a bad mood, Kurosaki-san. Whatever could the matter be?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Master and Apprentice

Title: Master and Apprentice  
Author: Triste  
Fandom: Bleach  
Pairing: Urahara/Ichigo  
Rating: NC-17  
Status: Complete  
Disclaimer: Not mine

~~

Sometimes, Ichigo couldn't even find the words he needed to express how much he hated Urahara. The idiotic grin that seemed to be constantly pasted over Urahara's face made Ichigo want to punch him more than anything, and the things that tended to spout from Urahara's mouth made Ichigo want to wrap his hands around his neck and squeeze until he couldn't even breathe, let alone talk.

"You seem to be in a bad mood, Kurosaki-san. Whatever could the matter be?"

Ichigo twitched. That singsong voice irritated him most of all, though, and he raised his gaze to meet Urahara's with thinly veiled disgust. "Of course I'm in a lousy mood, you moron. How else would I feel, sitting in your lap and having you leer at me like a freaking child molester?"

Urahara merely tapped him on the nose with the tip of his index finger. "Now, now, don't talk like that. Besides, you're perfectly legal. Everything that we do together is entirely consensual, so why are you complaining?"

Ichigo scowled. "If I'm legal, then why are you treating me like a five year old kid?"

Urahara smiled brightly. "Because it makes me feel naughty, of course~!"

"Bastard... you're really asking for a punch in the face here..."

"My, my, you *are* in a bad temper today, Kurosaki-san. It isn't nice to take your frustrations out on me, you know."

"Who said I was frustrated? I'm just pissed off! There's a difference!"

"It isn't nice to tell fibs, either, Kurosaki-san. Why can't you just be honest with your feelings for once?"

Ichigo was taken-aback by the sudden question. "Honest with my feelings? What do you mean by that?"

Urahara clicked his tongue pityingly and patted the top of Ichigo's head. "Admit it. You missed me so much that you snuck out of your house and came to visit my store in the middle of the night."

Ichigo glared at him, stammering indignantly. "B-bastard! Who the Hell would miss *you*?!"

"Don't lie to me, Kurosaki-san. I can always see right through you."

"Yeah, well, you don't have to sound so *happy* about it."

"But I know *everything* about you. I even know how much you're enjoying being in my lap right now, even though you won't admit it!"

"I am *not* enjoying it! You're making me feel stupid!"

"So you're not getting aroused, then?"

"Hell no!"

"Not even a little bit?"

"These questions are dumb. I'm not going to answer them anymore, so you might as well just save your breath."

"You're very sweet to be concerned about me, Kurosaki-san."

"I never said I was concerned, bastard pervert! Stop twisting my words up into your own stupid meanings!"

Urahara shook his head warningly. "You're doing it again, you know. You're taking your frustrations out of me. And you're using bad language. I really don't approve of things like that."

Ichigo stared back at him sulkily. "But you *are* a bastard pervert."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You're a bastard pervert, *and* you're an asshole for treating me the way that you do!"

Urahara tutted disapprovingly. "Such a sullen child. Benihime thinks so, too. She says you need your mouth washing out with soap and water. Either that or a good spanking."

Ichigo glanced over at the cane propped up against Urahara's side and narrowed his eyes. "I don't care what the mother fucking sword thinks. I'll say whatever the Hell I want!"

Urahara gave him another tap on the nose, but this one was harder than the last. "Ah-ah, Kurosaki-san. No bad-mouthing Benihime. Remember, she's a *lady*."

"She's a freaking *sword*! What does it matter to her, anyway?"

"It matters because she's concerned about your poor behaviour, and your lack of manners. I thought I trained you better."

"I'm not a freaking *pet*, you jack-ass! I'm your equal!"

Urahara suddenly lashed out with his fist and Ichigo flinched, obviously expecting punishment of some sort, but it still took him by surprise when Urahara chose to grab hold of his hair and yank it. "You seem to have forgotten something, Kurosaki-san," he said coolly. "You are my student and I am your master. Our relationship is superior to inferior, and yet you still think of yourself as my equal? I believe that's what they call getting ahead of yourself."

Ichigo squirmed uncomfortably, trying to ease himself from Urahara's grip. "Okay, okay, I get it, so stop being weird already!"

Urahara shook his head in response. "I don't think you understand. That's all right, though. You're not completely at fault here. I suppose I ought to take some of the blame, as your teacher. It would help if I corrected your behavioural problems for starters."

Ichigo bristled immediately. "I'm *not* some brainless animal, so stop treating me like one, you sick freak!"

Urahara chose to ignore his outburst. "Take off your pants, Kurosaki-san," he commanded smoothly.

Ichigo blinked, confused by Urahara's unexpected response. "What did you say?"

"I told you to take off your pants," Urahara repeated. "Lose the underwear, too."

Ichigo continued to stare. "But... why?"

Urahara spoke to him calmly and clearly. "Because I am going to spank you, Kurosaki-san."

Ichigo leaned back and raised his hands defensively. "Whoa, whoa, wait a minute. You want to *what*?"

"Spank you. And I'll be using Benihime to do it."

Ichigo's gaze slide back to the disguised zanpakutou at Urahara's side. "This is a joke, right? You're just yanking my chain, like always."

"This is no joke, Kurosaki-san. Now, are you going to do as I say? I know that brain of yours is rather small, but I trust that even you can achieve something as simple as taking off your own clothes?"

Ichigo's lip curled menacingly. "What will you do if I refuse?"

Urahara smiled at him, but there was nothing teasing or light-hearted about his expression. "I think it's in your best interests to follow my orders, Kurosaki-san. You wouldn't want to make things worse for yourself, after all."

Ichigo shook his head in disbelief. "You're serious, aren't you? You really want to do this!"

"You're trying my patience, Kurosaki-san," Urahara said in a steely tone of voice. "Do you want to prolong your punishment that badly?"

Ichigo searched Urahara's face for any sign of mockery, but came up with nothing. Urahara was perfectly expressionless, and Ichigo found himself growing wary and apprehensive. Serious Urahara was a rare thing indeed. It wasn't something that Ichigo knew how to deal with, either. It also made him feel somewhat nervous. As much as Urahara annoyed him, Ichigo could easily admit to himself that he was older, wiser, and more powerful, not to mention experienced.

Ichigo's first instinct was to resist. His second instinct was to obey.

He struggled between the two for a moment as he continued to stare at Urahara. Urahara gazed back at him evenly, and Ichigo bit his lip as he wondered which decision he ought to make.

Underneath that goofy exterior, Urahara could be very dangerous when he chose to be, and fear was just one of the things that made Ichigo submissive. The killing intent alone that Urahara tended to emit during their training sessions was enough to make Ichigo feel like cowering at his feet.

Urahara was right. They weren't equals. Even now, there was still a huge gulf that separated the two of them in terms of power and status.

The impulse to obey eventually won out, and Ichigo lowered his gaze in defeat. Urahara didn't stop him when he slid out of his lap. He didn't say a word, just watched as Ichigo began to unbuckle the belt around his waist, popping open the buttons of his fly once he'd finished and lowering his pants to his ankles, before stepping out of them completely.

Ichigo paused for a second before hooking his fingers underneath the waistband of his boxers, then tugged them down and off.

After that, he stood before Urahara self-consciously. The only things covering him still were his tee shirt and socks, and he wondered if he ought to remove them along with the rest of his clothing.

Urahara hadn't said anything about getting naked, though, and Ichigo decided to wait for further instruction instead of acting on his own.

"Over my lap," Urahara said quietly.

Ichigo swallowed, but did as he was told, kneeling before Urahara, and draping himself over the older man's thighs. He tensed when Urahara's hand trailed lightly over his bare flank, but other than that, he didn't move a muscle.

"Now, Kurosaki-san. I am going to give you one smack for every single curse that came out of your mouth this evening. Is that clear?"

Ichigo craned his head over his shoulders in surprise. "You were keeping count?"

Urahara smiled, but again, there wasn't anything light-hearted in it. "Of course. I believe you managed to come up with seven insults, and one of those was directed at Benihime. In other words, those seven curses are to be exchanged with several smacks. Understood?"

Ichigo narrowed his eyes. "Fine. Just hurry up and get it over with."

Urahara pinched him in warning. "Answer me properly, Kurosaki-san."

Ichigo quickly directed his gaze back to the floor as he felt his cheeks flush in shame. "I understand... Master..."

Urahara's touch gentled, and he stroked his fingers lightly over Ichigo's buttocks. "That's better. See? You do know your place after all."

Ichigo said nothing, only flinched when he felt the smooth wooden handle of Urahara's cane come to settle where his hand had just been.

"Now then... how many strokes did I say that I owed you?"

Ichigo's voice was guttural when he spoke. "Seven."

"Yes, that's right. And I'll make sure to add more for any additional curse that you make."

Ichigo pursed his lips in response, refusing to make another sound as he waited for the first blow to land. It was more of a swat than a smack, and he couldn't help the sudden rush of cockiness that he felt. "Is that all you've got?" he asked as he peered back at Urahara over his shoulder.

He immediately wished he'd stayed silent when the second blow came. It was nothing like the first one that Urahara had dealt to him, and it was so sharp that it drove the air out of his lungs with a startled cry.

"Does that answer your question, Kurosaki-san?"

Urahara sounded amused, and Ichigo grit his teeth resolutely. The third blow was even harder than the two preceding ones, and Ichigo couldn't contain his whimper as the wooden handle came down harshly on his flesh.

Even though he'd sworn to keep his mouth shut, Ichigo couldn't help cursing loudly after the next stroke, and he barely registered Urahara's voice over the sound of his own panting along with the rushing of the blood in his ears.

Apparently, he'd just earned himself another smack.

The three remaining strokes became four, and Ichigo managed to make his way through them with only a series of muffled grunts and moans. He stayed still when Urahara finally ceased, panting and trembling, but waiting obediently for further orders. His tee shirt was sticky with sweat, and his body felt overheated, but that was nothing compared to the stinging of his ass.

As with their training, Ichigo didn't know whether to feel impressed or insulted by the fact that Urahara never bothered to hold back with him, but thinking in his current state was somewhat difficult, and he chose to focus on catching his breath instead.

Urahara lowered his cane back to the floor, and Ichigo squeezed his eyes shut when he felt the touch of Urahara's palm on his rear, half-expecting another series of smacks. Urahara did no such thing, however. He merely smoothed his fingers over the sensitive reddened skin, making Ichigo keen low in his throat.

He squirmed when he felt Urahara's fingers dip down lower to cup his balls, then moaned when Urahara squeezed them just a little too tightly for comfort. He was fully erect against Urahara's thigh, and he knew that the older man could feel it. He'd started getting hard after the second stroke, and he still felt guilty for being turned on by such an act.

Now Ichigo knew that he'd been spending far too much time with Urahara. He'd become almost as sick as his teacher.

Rather than giving Ichigo time to dwell upon this new revelation, Urahara chose to speak up.

"Undress me, Kurosaki-san."

Ichigo nodded, still shaking slightly as he lifted himself out of Urahara's lap. He knelt between Urahara's legs and reached up to unfasten the obi around his waist, getting him naked easily enough, before sitting back on his haunches and awaiting further instruction.

Urahara was smiling at him again, but it wasn't teasing, nor was it dark. He looked pleased, and Ichigo felt a jolt of something deep in his gut. He didn't know why, but Urahara's approval made him feel good. That was why he found himself reaching out and taking hold of Urahara's arousal without being told, closing his eyes and drawing the tip of it into his mouth.

Urahara patted his head encouragingly, and Ichigo parted his lips a little more, letting Urahara's cock slide deeper inside. He began to suck, feeling rewarded when he heard a sharp gasp from Urahara, making him increase his efforts to pleasure the older man.

With his eyes shut, it was easier to concentrate on his task. Urahara's musky scent filled his nostrils and flooded his mouth, and Ichigo raised one hand to rest on Urahara's thigh, squeezing firm muscle under smooth flesh.

He was surprised when Urahara chose to put an end to things so soon after they'd only just begun, but Ichigo didn't complain when Urahara pushed him away, just licked his lips before wiping away the excess saliva with his fingers.

It wasn't much longer before he found himself knocked onto his back as Urahara's body moved to settle over his. Urahara tugged the tee shirt up over his head, leaving Ichigo naked except for the socks he still wore on his feet, before diving in for a kiss.

Obviously, he had no intention of fooling around anymore, and Ichigo was in no mood to wriggle out of his grasp and play hard to get. It was a relief to feel the weight of Urahara's body pressing down on top of his own, just as it was a relief to rock his hips and rub himself against the older man with a moan.

It was like scratching an itch, but he still needed more. Right now, Ichigo couldn't care less about how perverted Urahara was. He just wanted to get laid.

Urahara seemed perfectly happy to oblige him, propping himself up on one arm and running his free hand over Ichigo's chest. Ichigo gasped and shivered as Urahara pinched his nipples, tugging almost to the point of pain and causing Ichigo to arch his back with a yelp.

Urahara's eyes were narrowed and unreadable, and Ichigo felt uneasy to look into them for too long. He knew that Urahara wasn't afraid to provoke him. He knew that Urahara wasn't afraid of pushing him past his limits. Actually, he enjoyed it. He'd push and push until Ichigo was on the verge of breaking altogether, and he'd take pleasure out of it.

No matter how much Ichigo struggled, Urahara was always three steps ahead.

A part of Ichigo wanted to rebel against Urahara's control. He resented how easily Urahara could predict him, just as he resented his inability to measure his body's own responses around the older man.

The rest of him accepted Urahara's ownership all too eagerly, however. Urahara was confident and dominant, whereas he was awkward and submissive. He was attracted to Urahara's air of danger almost as much as he was repelled by it, and it was something that Ichigo found himself both frightened and thrilled by.

He couldn't deny the fact that Urahara excited him. He couldn't even fight against his manipulation, but if Ichigo was honest with himself, he never really tried that hard in the first place. Not when the rewards for putting up with it were so sweet.

Urahara liked him feisty, but he also liked him obedient, and if he were in the mood to give, then Ichigo wouldn't hesitate to take.

Ichigo's body responded to Urahara without any conscious thought from his brain. It was only natural for him to give in to his superior, baring his throat and spreading his legs to show that he had no intention of resisting.

Like any proper teacher, Urahara offered his praise and approval when Ichigo had earned it, and it made Ichigo squirm under him anxiously when Urahara would whisper into his ear and tell him what a good boy he was.

As with everything Urahara did, it made him feel stupid and aroused at the same time. It always made his stomach lurch to hear those murmured compliments, especially seeing as Urahara seemed to be so admiring of him. It made Ichigo want to please him all the more, and he hated himself for that.

Urahara often frustrated him, though, and Ichigo could only groan when he felt the older man push himself up and away, leaving him cold and bereft.

"Hands and knees, Kurosaki-san," Urahara said quietly.

Ichigo nodded, not even protesting as he did as he was told, kneeling so that he was on all fours with his head bowed and his ass raised. He knew that he was being stared at, and he hoped Urahara wouldn't leave him waiting for too long.

Ichigo's breathing was ragged, and he trembled in anticipation. The longer Urahara left him unattended, the more he grew impatient, and Ichigo bit his lower lip in frustration. He reached down to touch himself tentatively, but before he could even get any pleasure out of the act, Urahara's voice brought him to a stop.

"Did I give you permission to do that?"

Ichigo shook his head guiltily. "No, Urahara-san." He quickly let his hand drop, keeping his eyes lowered and wondering if Urahara would chose to punish him again. A jolt of arousal spiked through him at the thought, making him even harder.

He gasped out in shock when Urahara reached out and fisted a hand into his hair, jerking his head up roughly so that Ichigo could meet his gaze. His eyes were narrowed, but a smirk tugged at his lips as he leaned in to bring his face closer to Ichigo's.

"You like this, don't you, Kurosaki-san?" he said softly, reaching out with his free hand and stroking his fingers against Ichigo's cheek. "You like it and you're wanting more."

Ichigo said nothing, but the blush on his face gave everything away. Urahara merely smiled and pressed his index and middle fingers against Ichigo's lips, waiting for Ichigo to take them into his mouth and begin sucking. Ichigo did so, but he kept his gaze fixed on Urahara's, reluctant to move it away.

"Do you like it when I hurt you, Kurosaki-san? Does it make you feel good?"

Urahara's voice crooned into his ear, inviting Ichigo to tell him all his darkest secrets, and Ichigo moaned helplessly, the noise of it muffled by Urahara's fingers. He moaned again when those fingers withdrew, but he stayed where he was when Urahara moved away.

He watched as Urahara reached over and snagged the loose pants that he'd discarded earlier. Ichigo would have been surprised over the fact that Urahara tended to keep lubricant in his pockets if only he weren't so turned-on right now, and his eyes widened even further when Urahara squeezed the substance over his fingers and began rubbing it onto his cock.

A whine slipped out of Ichigo's throat before he could even stop it, and Urahara seemed amused when he saw the look of longing on his face. Ichigo's fingers twitched, and he ached to move a hand down and mirror what Urahara was doing to himself. He forced himself to remain still, however, and just kept his eyes on Urahara.

Urahara enjoyed being watched, apparently, and he smiled lazily as he continued to stroke himself. Ichigo's mouth was watering, and he quickly scrubbed the back of his hand over his lips, moaning in frustration and need.

And then Urahara was kneeling behind him, his hands on either side of Ichigo's hips, and Ichigo started in shock when he felt the head of Urahara's arousal prodding against his entrance. He'd expected Urahara to prepare him a little, at least, and a surge of panic and excitement stole through him when Urahara began pushing inside.

His cock was lubricated, but he'd made no effort to ready Ichigo for what was about to come, and Ichigo's body resisted instinctively at the intrusion, making it difficult for him to relax. It was more painful than pleasurable, and Ichigo whined weakly, a cold sweat breaking out over the back of his neck.

Urahara didn't stop, though, not until he was all the way inside. He didn't even give Ichigo time to adjust before he began moving again, and he leaned in to close his teeth down sharply on Ichigo's shoulder.

Ichigo moaned piteously and tried to lurch away, but Urahara wound an arm around his torso, supporting him and trapping him in place at the same time.

Ichigo struggled to keep a hold of himself, but it was difficult. Urahara was panting in his ear, his movements rough and jerky but rhythmic, and Ichigo grunted with each of Urahara's thrusts.

It wasn't enough, though, and he still wasn't getting much enjoyment out of the act, which was why he found himself sobbing breathlessly for Urahara to touch him.

"What's the magic word, Kurosaki-san?"

If Ichigo had been able to think at all, he would have been annoyed by the fact that Urahara could still manage to put on that stupid singsong voice, even at a time like this.

"Please..." he gasped. "Urahara-san, *please*..."

A breathy chuckle was the only warning he got before Urahara reached down and grabbed hold of his cock. Ichigo could only moan after that, as Urahara began fucking him even harder. Urahara's hand tightened on his cock, jerking him off sharply, and Ichigo wailed as his body went taut, and then he was coming, coming as Urahara continued to fuck him, even when Ichigo sighed and sagged limply. Urahara kept him supported until he, too, found his release, moaning softly as he tensed and shuddered.

Ichigo's head swam dazedly, and he had to close his eyes against the rush of dizziness. He couldn't seem to catch his breath, and he couldn't seem to stop shivering. His body felt utterly drained, and it was a relief when Urahara finally lowered the two of them so that they were lying on their sides.

"I hate you," he murmured sleepily as Urahara nuzzled the back of his neck. "You know that, right?"

He could practically feel Urahara's smile against his sweaty skin, and Ichigo resisted the urge to knock him with his elbow as Urahara started nipping at his shoulder.

"Of course you hate me, Kurosaki-san. Why else would you keep coming back for the mind-numbing pleasure that I'm always willing to offer you?"

Ichigo snorted. "Yeah, it's mind-numbing all right. *You're* mind-numbing. You're also a ba-" Ichigo remembered his earlier punishment and quickly caught himself before he could let slip a curse, "a bad man."

"Oh really?" Urahara sounded far too amused for Ichigo's liking. "I thought that was what you liked about me?"

Ichigo was glad that he was facing away from Urahara, but somehow, he'd probably know that he was blushing without being able to see it for himself. "We're not having sex right now, so I don't want to talk about it. Just shut up already."

"It seems you still haven't learned your lesson completely, Kurosaki-san," Urahara said, his tone mockingly mournful. "Maybe next time I ought to have you address me as 'Urahara-sama'."

Ichigo could only twitch irritably as Urahara began to chuckle again. "Do it and die, asshole."

 

End.


End file.
